Sleepless Nights
by randomrandom
Summary: Kept awake by his thoughts on his two companions, the Doctor retreats to his library, only to find Rose and Jack have the same idea. Fluffy and plotless, set somewhere between TDD and BW.


_**Sleepless Nights.**_

I wrote most of this a while ago - some parts are from different stories that I scraped - and finished it last night, because for some reason I couldn't bring myself to start Harry Potter. Well I have now but I'm taking a break to post this, hope you like it, it's fairly pointless and fluffy, set somewhere between The Doctor Dances and Bad Wolf, I suppose. Anyway, feedback is, as always, loved and adored.

Enjoy :)

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The Doctor was tired. For the first time in what seemed like ages he had a moment to himself, and he sat down on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands over his face in an effort to clear away some of the cobwebs from his mind. With a sigh, he gave in and lay back on the bed, folding his arms up behind his head and closing his eyes. The TARDIS was fussing with the temperature, but it didn't bother him much; indeed, he was rather comfortable for once in his dark, starkly furnished bedroom.

He hadn't slept for a few days; the three of them hadn't even managed to get back to the TARDIS for three days, let alone find time for a quick nap. He'd tried to make sure that Jack and Rose managed to get some sleep, of course… he chuckled to himself at this; a nine hundred year old Time Lord with maternal instincts towards two apes from the planet Earth. Jack, of course, wasn't a problem. He had an uncanny ability to doze off at the drop of a hat, wherever he was and whatever he was doing. They had just spent the better part of a day sitting inside a particularly cramped storage cupboard on the Stellar 59 space amusement station, waiting for night to fall so that they could go off and investigate what had turned out to be a Ment'triax chief of staff with a power complex, and he'd made Rose lie down, which was just about possible in the small space, with her head in his lap to get some sleep. While it had taken her almost half an hour to stop wriggling about and actually drop off, Jack had promptly shut his eyes and fallen asleep where he sat, despite the fact that he was jammed in underneath the bottom shelf.

He smiled at the memory, though a small frown played about his features. It was hard to get used to, loving these two. So often he felt the age difference between them acutely, and yet the emotions they were capable of; the innocence that seemed to be an integral part of both of them, for all it was not present in their behaviour, was something that he had yet to learn.

Turning over onto his side, he opened his eyes and stared into the darkness of his room. Being attracted to someone was nothing new, to be sure, and if he was honest with himself he had hardly been surprised when he'd first realised that his feelings for Rose went beyond simple companionship; he'd always known there was something different about her. But it all went much deeper even than that. He'd never before had this piercing knowledge that he'd do anything, absolutely anything, to make someone happy, to keep them safe. Or maybe he had but he'd just become so caught up in his grief and loneliness after the war that he'd forgotten how to love like this; either way, Rose was becoming as vital to him now as the time ship he'd travelled in for so many centuries, and the thought made him slightly uneasy. Then there was Jack; so eager to please, to be useful, to be needed. Jack, he thought, knew what it was to be alone in a way that Rose perhaps could not. There was a lot left to discover about him, but somehow the Doctor knew that he would trust him with his life. He knew that Jack, along with Rose, would never fail to make him smile, perhaps not happy, but content.

Domestic, he realised. That's what they were. The three of them in the kitchen, laughing together over something insignificant, drinking their tea and arguing over the last chocolate digestive, all comfort and warmth and safety. The Doctor swallowed somewhat nervously as he realised that he almost looked forward to these moments. He lay on his bed in silence for a few more minutes, frowning, before realising that he'd never be able to sleep now.

With another heavy sigh, he stood and headed out of his room.

xXx

The heating was on the blink again, and Rose Tyler couldn't sleep. This in itself was extremely irritating, but it was made worse by the knowledge that the dramatic drop in temperature onboard the TARDIS was almost certainly having no effect on either of her travelling companions. She decided to take it personally; they were always trying to annoy her.

Jack was able to sleep pretty much anywhere and under any condition, and Rose hated him for it. She groaned into her pillow as she thought of him, all smug and asleep in his room down the corridor.

The Doctor, on the other hand, rarely slept. Rose had never actually seen him sleeping at all, but she took his word for it when he assured her that he did sometimes indulge in the "daft human" act. Shivering, Rose curled up tighter under her duvet, wondering where in the great time ship he was, and whether or not she should disturb him. He had a much lower body temperature than humans and as such was probably perfectly comfortable just now. In fact, Rose had the distinct impression that he enjoyed these little temperature glitches that the TARDIS threw their way from time to time, if for no other reason than that they gave him the opportunity to feel even more superior than usual. She strained her hearing; there was none of the usual banging and swearing coming from the direction of the console room.

"Right," she kicked the covers off. "Waste of time, this."

She pulled a pair of thin tracksuit bottoms over her boxer shorts, grabbed a nearby jumper, sniffed it (Jack's, she decided), and dragged it over her dishevelled hair as she headed for the door.

It was even colder out in the corridor. Rose scowled at the walls of the TARDIS as she made her way to the Doctor's bedroom, shuffling her feet in their thick woollen socks (the Doctor's, she would've guessed), and wrapping her arms around herself.

"Doctor?" she pushed the heavy door open slowly when she got there, peering round into the gloom. There was no reply, so she stepped into the room and, when she finally managed to find the light switch, saw that it was empty. Switching the light off again, she stepped back out into the corridor and closed the door quietly, making a mental list of all the places the Doctor was likely to be, though she knew that there was little chance of her finding him unless he wanted to be found.

"Tea…" she muttered, and set off for the kitchen, shivering and clamping her teeth shut as they started to chatter.

The kitchen, she found, was empty too but she went in anyway and put the kettle on. She got out a mug (Jack's), and hesitated before taking a second one out for the Doctor.

She smiled to herself as she saw a small silver device sitting by the sink. The Doctor had been eagerly demonstrating this new toy of his earlier; Rose hadn't a clue what it was or what it was supposed to do, but she always got a kick out of watching the boys when they were in Mechanics Mode. She wondered vaguely what it was about technology that reduced men to such childlike states, recalling the Doctor's gleeful grin as Jack literally jumped for joy over the device.

The kettle boiled noisily, bringing her out of her reverie. She made two cups of tea quickly, still dwelling on the Doctor's grin. He had a grin for every occasion, and most of them were highly infectious; she headed out of the kitchen, smiling broadly.

The corridor was filled with darkness, but after five minutes or so of walking, Rose noticed a faint glow coming from a door to her left, which was slightly ajar. Moving slowly so as not to spill the tea, she kicked it open enough for her to slip inside. She found herself standing on a rich crimson coloured carpet, facing a huge room with row upon row of towering bookshelves. The light was warmer and brighter in here, coming from a large fire to the right of the library, where a desk and some armchairs sat invitingly nearby.

"Hello." The quiet, only faintly surprised voice coming from just behind her made her jump, spilling hot tea over onto her hands as she turned.

He'd been holding a book open in one hand, the other gently flicking through the pages, but now he put it down hurriedly on a nearby table and took the mugs from her.

"Come with me," he ordered, making his way towards the fire. Rose followed gladly, still shivering, hands burning.

He was rummaging around in the desk, his back to her.

"…Don't usually let people in here, y'know," he was saying.

"Yeah? Why's that then?" she asked through a smile.

"Don't trust 'em." He grinned as he straightened and waved something silver in the air. "Found it!"

"Wassat?"

"Use it on the books, but this one's new. For your hands." He gestured for her to sit on the sofa by him, and she did so silently, feeling the warmth of the fire before them as it washed over her.

He took her hands gently, wiping the tea from them with the silvery cloth, and she gasped slightly as she felt it against her skin. It was cool and soft and felt like nothing on Earth. The Doctor smiled.

"Can't get these anymore, you know. Count yourself lucky."

"What is it?"

"Gallifreyan silk. Has healing properties, cleaning properties, restoring properties… Lots of properties," he smiled, but it was forced and the look in his eyes needed no explaining. She felt a flutter of sympathy in her heart.

"You shouldn't waste it on me, then," she said softly as he wrapped the fabric around her hands and then took them in his, staring intently at his work.

"So what you doing up at this hour, then?"

"Couldn't sleep. Too cold. Sorry if you wanted to be alone in here… I can go…"

"No it's fine, I was just…" He stood up suddenly and crossed the room to pick up the book he'd been holding before. "Looking through this." He placed it carefully on the low table before them and sat back down beside her.

Taking her hands as he sat, he pulled the shimmering cloth from them slowly and laid it beside the book on the table. He turned her hands over in his, inspecting.

"Better?"

She nodded, suddenly unable to find her voice as he trailed his fingers across her palms. She shivered.

"Come over here, s'warmer." He took her hand and led her over to the fire, pulling her down to sit on the soft carpet. She sat close to him, leaning her head on his shoulder as he opened the book and showed her its contents.

"Is this…?"

"Yep."

He turned the pages slowly, commenting occasionally in a low voice and pointing out certain pictures to her. She smiled and he watched as her face lit up whenever a particularly beautiful image appeared on the page, and whenever silence fell between them it was comfortable and warm.

After a short while the door to the library opened and they looked up simultaneously, turning to see Jack in the doorway, wearing two thick jumpers over his pyjamas and clutching a hot water bottle.

"Oh I'm sorry, I… I heard voices. Sorry." He made to shut the door again and leave them to it but the Doctor grinned and jerked his head in the direction of the space by him and Rose.

"Come and sit with us."

Jack grinned and made his way towards the fire, sitting on the other side of the Doctor from Rose and rubbing his hands together as the warmth of the fire settled over him.

"It's bloody freezing out there," he said, and then frowned as he took in Rose's clothes. "Is that my sweater?"

She cleared her throat and tucked her feet away under her. "Maybe…"

"Women," he muttered, earning a grin from the Doctor. He peered down at the book he was holding, a deeper frown crossing his features.

"Are they of Gallifrey?"

"Yep."

"It's beautiful," he said, reaching out to touch one of the photos gently, looking closer.

"Yep." His voice sounded strangely tight, and Jack saw Rose take his hand, lacing her fingers through his. He sat a little closer to the Doctor, his arm pressed against the older man's, and smiled at him.

They didn't need to talk, and that was what the Doctor loved about these two; they just understood. He smiled back, first at Jack and then Rose, and before long they were laughing and smiling, planning and joking, and, for the first time since before the war, the Doctor felt like he was home.

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Thank you for reading. 


End file.
